


Some Like It Ray

by arby



Category: due South
Genre: Crossdressing, Episode Tag, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arby/pseuds/arby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeing Fraser in drag seems to have broken Ray's brain. Spoilers for "Some Like It Red".</p><hr/><p>Ben was doing a quick change in the back of the Crown Vic, writhing around like a contortionist back there, complaining about <i>pantyhose</i>, for God's sake. Ray tried not to look in the rearview but at times it was unavoidable for the safety of himself and his passenger, not to mention that of his beloved vehicle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I'll take the job," the obscenely tall redhead seated by Ray's desk murmured, in a surprisingly refined tone for her gargantuan size.

 _It's not fair,_ thought Ray with the corner of his mind that wasn't feverishly devoted to finding a way to absolve his adolescent guilty conscience; _Women shouldn't be allowed to get that tall. I pity the guy that tries to date her. Unless he's a basketball player or something._

He said dismissively, "I don't even _know_ you."

"Actually, I believe you do," she insisted, polite but firm.

Her voice did sound vaguely, naggingly familiar. But Ray really didn't know any 6'+ Amazons off the top of his head. And he didn't have time for these shenanigans - he had a Catholic schoolgirl to locate.

"I'm sorry, I don't." He brushed by her without looking and headed for the door.

She caught his arm and swung the long hair back from her face, forced him to look.

"Ray, it's me."

Ray's racing thoughts stuttered to a halt as he saw with a sudden onslaught of cognitive dissonance: guileless blue eyes sharpened with black slashes of liner, the stoic, square mouth absurdly colored in with lipstick like bright paint spilled onto a perfectly good black and white sketch, the ludicrous dimestore clip-on earrings she - HE - was sporting, not to mention the bra that gave her those cone-shaped 50's boobs like his fourth-grade teacher Mrs. McGillicutty, and he couldn't seem to comprehend that it was -

"Fraser?" 

                           *    *    *    *    *

Walking down the street, pretending he didn't know his partner, Ray couldn't tell who he was more embarrassed for, Fraser or himself. But then again Fraser seemed to have been raised by wolves, for all his outdated manners, and almost never felt the shame of his constantly outlandish and usually wildly inappropriate behavior.  He left that part to Ray.  As for himself, Ray couldn't believe he'd been fooled even for a second - Fraser in drag made Bea Arthur look like a model of femininity.  But Ray wasn't the only one who'd been fooled, as Fraser kept reminding him whenever the transparency of his charade was brought up. Not only the usual idiots like Huey but sensible people like Walsh and Elaine were duped as well.  Fraser would probably hand out some tidbit of Inuit wisdom about people seeing what they expected to see, had Ray let him finish his lectures.

Ray had gotten used to people thinking Fraser was an exceptionally handsome man - perfectly discerning girls seemed to get weak at the knees just _looking_ at the guy, for Chrissakes; it was enough to give a less confident partner a complex - but he simply could not wrap his head around the concept of Fraser as a remotely passable woman, let alone an attractive one.  Yet men were acting like they found him - her? - attractive.

 _Can't you see?_ he found himself wanting to shake them. _She's so_ obviously _a man!_

The jaw line alone would have given Benny away in a heartbeat. Ray had to give him some credit for managing to avoid the more obvious pitfalls of dressing in drag - not that Ray knew from experience or anything, but you don't spend time in Vice without seeing all sorts of trannies, good and bad - the long sleeves of his dowdy dresses camouflaged the too-large wrists, and colorful scarves attempted to disguise his Adam's apple. But his face was so unequivocally masculine, despite the long eyelashes he tried to coyly look up under, and his posture still held a military rigor that belied the dresses and sensible heels.  It was just obvious.

 _Yeah, once you thought to look_ , his traitorous brain whispered.  But why would he?  He didn't usually go around inspecting strangers for signs of cross-dressing. He told himself that any confusion on his part was a perfectly normal response to unexpected outbreaks of drag in one's apparently straight partner.

 _Wait a minute._ Fraser _was_ straight, wasn't he? Victoria aside, he never seemed to notice the women that threw themselves at him like starving dogs at an exceptionally appetizing bone. But he'd never expressed any interest in men, either, at least not that Ray'd noticed. He'd always thought of Benny as the hopelessly old-fashioned type that would pine after a love object for years, and probably go to his grave before admitting he had feelings for anyone, like Anthony Hopkins in that movie.  It had never even occurred to him that Fraser could be in the closet.

"You know, Ray," Benny broke into his silent contemplation, "In some cultures it's considered to be an indicator of confidence in one's masculinity to be able to wear women's clothes without shame."

"Hey, I didn’t say anything. You're the one who feels the need to defend herself," Ray responded, smiling a little in spite of himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben was doing a quick change in the back of the Crown Vic, writhing around like a contortionist back there, complaining about pantyhose, for God's sake. Ray tried not to look in the rearview but at times it was unavoidable for the safety of himself and his passenger, not to mention that of his beloved vehicle.

The pantyhose thing was weird, though. Weirder than usual for Benny, was what he meant.  Ray didn't _want_ to think about it, but somehow he found himself wondering, _what kind of underwear does he wear under that ridiculous dress?_  

Knowing Ben as he did - which was pretty damn well, he could tell you that - Ray would bet there'd be a serious attempt at authenticity, meaning panties of some kind. On the other hand, considering his not inconsiderable girth - not saying he was fat, just... _solid_ \- what kind of non-granny underwear would even fit him? Or maybe he was wearing briefs under there. But surely that would... bulge in what Fraser would consider an unacceptable manner.

Ray saw an idiot in a puke-colored Toyota approaching his lane and honked angrily, swerving out of the way. 

 _I have to stop thinking about this - it's way too distracting._

He made a turn at high-speed, slurring the Vic's tires out into the bend. They were rapidly approaching the station.

 _Well, there's one way to find out. (Not the **only** way, though,_ a small part of his mind that seemed to revel in being evil commented. _Not going there,_ he told it.)

"Hey Benny," he said casually.

"Yes Ray," Ben replied instantly, earnest as always.

"Just out of curiosity, nothing more - I mean, not that I really care or anything - what kind of undergarments do you wear under that thing?"

"First of all, methinks you dost protest too much." ("Shakespeare" in response to Ray's quizzical look.) "Secondly, I presume you mean the lower half, because it's quite obvious that I must wear a brassiere to maintain the illusion of-"

"Yes, yes," Ray broke in, to avoid hearing the end of that sentence.

"Well since you ask - and as a lady (however falsified), I really should never tell, but because it's you I will - I managed to find a section in the department store where they stock women's undergarments in larger sizes, and they are not all entirely hideous."

"So long story short - panties."

"Yes Ray, I suppose that's what they are."

 Ray fell silent, not knowing what to make of that. He glanced back at Fraser, who was finally decent, noticing the contradiction between his proper – if ridiculous - red uniform and the makeup and earrings that he still wore. If it were anyone else he would have let them wear it into the station as a practical joke, but he couldn't do that to Benny.

"You might want to," he gestured to his own face in a "fix that" manner.

"Oh, yes - thank you Ray."

"Any time."

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know this title doesn't really make any sense, but I can't think of a better one. I keep wanting to put a comma in but "Some Like It, Ray" isn't any better! Suggestions welcome. I might finish this one day, but I kind of ran out of steam.


End file.
